Bookworm, Issue 12

The Book: Trust by Hernan Diaz

Vying for a reader’s Trust in Hernan Diaz’s novel are four disparate voices, each telling the same story from his or her own perspective. While some points of view are more persuasive than others, no one is entirely convincing. This uncertainty is what makes the book so engaging and clever – but also frustrating and unsettling.

The story revolves around Benjamin and Helen Rask, a wealthy and influential couple living in New York City in the 1920s. Benjamin is a successful financier, while Helen is a generous philanthropist. They prefer privacy and are thus the subjects of much curiosity. Trust begins with a 100-plus-page novelette called “Bonds,” in which their lives are made public. This sets the stage to read alternate narratives, hearing from both Mr. and Mrs. Rask, whose real names are Andrew and Mildred Bevel, as well as Mr. Bevel’s biographer, Ida Partenza.

Our wine pairing comes from a grape variety that is as malleable as the Bevel’s story. It’s a grape with a wide-ranging aroma and flavor profile that can taste very different, depending upon the winemaker who is telling its “story.”

Embedded in the Bevel’s tale is an exploration of economic and political power and privilege. Each of the four narratives cast doubt upon the others allowing Diaz to tackle the complexities of capitalism, classism and sexism. The couple’s relationship, actions, and motivations are all called into question leaving readers to piece together an elusive truth.

Andrew Bevel comes from a wealthy family and multiplies his fortune on Wall Street. Diaz uses the language of finance literally to describe Bevel’s work, as well as figuratively to develop a sense of unease around the Bevels and the system upon which their wealth is built. “Trust” is one obvious example, but also the title of the novelette, “Bonds,” in which we are first introduced to the couple and their disquieting relationship. Instead, readers notice wariness, detachment, and insecurity. Throughout the novel, Diaz leverages the ambiguous nature of language to make suggestions about the Bevels instead of revelations.

The character who is most approachable is the one who is least preoccupied with money, and that’s Ida Partenza, Bevel’s clever, young biographer. She is surrounded by domineering men who think of nothing else – money is “all” things to her employer, an obscenely wealthy capitalist, and to her father, an impoverished Italian immigrant and anarchist, it is “an illusion we’ve all agreed to support.” Whether rich or poor, the outcome of the men’s shared obsession is loneliness and misery. Ida challenges them both with her courage and hopefulness.

Until the novel’s end, the missing voice is Mildred Bevel’s. Initially, she is defined in relationship to the men in her life, including Mr. Bevel who describes her as “kind,” “fragile,” and “devoted to our home and the arts.” But Mr. Bevel likes to “bend and align reality,” and Ida suspects that he is diminishing Mildred’s complexity. The more he insists that Mildred is a gentle and soft homemaker and wife, the less believable he becomes. When the novel concludes with entries from Mildred’s journal, readers finally receive valuable clues about who she truly is.

With a cast of mostly self-important characters who revere wealth and power and whose personal relationships disappoint, this reading experience can feel deflating at times. Diaz fills the book with bold, confrontational statements, asking readers to really think about whether or not they agree. Ultimately, Trust is provocative and thus a success. The story lingers, perhaps because it is so disquieting? It persists in asking difficult questions – in seeking truth – but requires readers to answer for themselves.

The Wine: Big Table Farm, ‘Wild Bee’ Chardonnay, Willamette Valley, 2021 $35.99

This pale lemon wine has medium intensity on the nose with aromas of lemon curd, lemongrass, orange peel, honeycomb, apple pie, hazelnut, buttered toast, ripe pear and peach, and sea salt.

On the palate, it’s dry and medium-bodied. It has medium (+) acidity and medium alcohol at 13% ABV. Flavors closely mirror the nose with plenty of citrus, including grapefruit, lemon and orange, as well as notes of ripe apple and pear, honeycomb, hazelnut and vanilla. It has medium (+) intensity and a long, lively finish.

This Chardonnay is outstanding and quite unlike others I’ve tasted. The balance between richness and freshness is irresistible.

The grapes are a blend from seven different vineyard sites in the Willamette Valley. The wine is fermented with natural yeast and is unfined and unfiltered.

Why the pairing works:

Chardonnay is sometimes called a “blank canvas” because it is so malleable, and thus pairs perfectly with Trust. Our drinking experience is shaped by the winemaker, in large part; just as our understanding of the Bevel’s story is shaped by the narrator.

As a “winemaker’s grape,” Chardonnay accommodates a range of winemaking techniques that add complexity to the wine. Oak barrel fermentation and/or maturation adds richness and texture, and if the barrels are new, they will impart secondary aromas and flavors like vanilla, coconut, and butterscotch. In contrast, a cool fermentation in stainless steel or concrete helps to preserve freshness and the grape’s fruit character.

Malolactic fermentation (tart malic acids are converted into softer lactic acids) reduces acidity and adds buttery flavors and softness. And lees stirring imparts richness and notes of bread, brioche and pastry as the wine matures on its fine lees (dead yeast cell particles).

Winemakers can use all, some, or none of these special techniques with Chardonnay, depending on climate, vintage, vineyard site, and the “story” they want to share about the wine.

According to The Oxford Companion to Wine, Chardonnay is “easy-to-appreciate if difficult-to-describe.” Analysis of its flavors identified compounds also found in “raspberries, vanilla, tropical fruits, peaches, tomatoes, tobacco, tea and rose petals.” Chardonnay is grown around the world, from the cool French region of Chablis, where it exhibits green fruits and citrus, to Australia’s warm Margaret River, where stone fruits and tropical flavors are more common.

I chose ‘Wild Bee’ Chardonnay for its complexity and balance, but also because there’s real care in the winemaking – these grapes were gently coaxed into their best expression. In addition, the husband and wife team responsible for making the wine stands in stark contrast to the Bevels. Refreshingly, Brian Marcy and Clare Carver appear to be everything that Andrew and Mildred Bevel are not.

They moved to Oregon from Napa in 2006 and started the hard work of building their dream from scratch. They live and work on a 70-acre regenerative farm, where they make wine, create art, raise animals and grow vegetables. They say, “We grow and produce what we love to eat and drink.” Their winemaking approach is straightforward, which reflects who they are. Trust-worthy. Visit their website to watch a short video about their farm and philosophy